


Where the Earth Meets the Sky

by pavlablack



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Community: shaggydog_swap, F/M, M/M, Romance, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pavlablack/pseuds/pavlablack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Tonks is three years younger than the Marauders, and Sirius and Remus are single dads who find their way back together after years apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where the Earth Meets the Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Out for a Walk](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/14680) by horcruxhymen. 



> Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JKR, not me. No copyright infringement intended.

The first real conversation Remus Lupin had with Nymphadora Tonks started off with a misunderstanding and a generous portion of champagne cascading over his head.

"Fancy a shag?"

Remus, who had stepped out onto an empty balcony to stare at the sky because even the moon was a welcome escape from the sight of Sirius chatting up every girl at James and Lily's wedding party, whipped his head around so quickly that he didn't see the tray of champagne flutes floating by. He winced as the icy cold liquid washed over his head and down his back, then wiped his eyes to find a violet-haired girl holding her hand over her mouth and laughing.

"Pardon?" he said, trying to maintain his composure even though he was certain he must look ridiculous. The girl looked somewhat familiar though he couldn't quite place her.

She moved closer and tilted her head at him. "Merlin, Remus, are you always so proper?"

Remus squinted and looked at her more closely. Suddenly he was put in mind of Sirius's cousin, three years behind them at Hogwarts. He imagined her with a heart-shaped face and bubble-gum colored hair. "Nymphadora?"

" _Don't_ call me Nymphadora!" she said, her entire head turning a violent shade of scarlet.

"Sorry," he said, sure he had it right now, as he remembered witnessing a similar reaction when Sirius teased his younger cousin by using her given name.

"Hmph," she snorted, her features shifting in color and shape until they reverted into the face he recognised. She pulled her wand out and waved it erratically around Remus's head before he could protest. He felt hot air dry his skin and blow his hair back into what he hoped wasn't a bad imitation of Gilderoy Lockhart, a pompous young author he'd met at a book-signing last week. When the man couldn't answer any of Remus's questions about how he had banished the banshee that was the subject of his first bestseller, Remus recognised him for a fraud and sold his autographed copy for a ridiculously high price, using the money to buy a new set of dress robes for the wedding and a gift for Lily and James.

"I'd have used Evanesco but you might have ended up without hair," Tonks explained, stowing her wand in her bag and rummaging around for something else. "Anyway," she said, looking at him slyly, "you didn't answer my question."

It was Remus's turn to flush. "Er—"

"Fancy a fag?" she asked, eyes twinkling as she pulled out a pack of Dunhills, and Remus was almost embarrassed that he had misheard her, until her mischievous wink told him maybe he hadn't. He really didn't care for cigarettes but had gotten into the habit because of Sirius, first as an excuse to be alone with him, since James couldn't stand the smell and the smoke set Peter wheezing, then later after a few episodes of particularly satisfying but secret sex. He took the cigarette Tonks offered and used his wand to light it and then the one she held between her own lips.

"Wotcher. Honestly— _Nymphadora_ ," she shuddered, inhaling and exhaling violently. Evidently she hadn't forgotten Remus's slight. "Mum must have been right high on pixie dust when she saddled me with that ridiculous name."

"Not much worse than Sirius's mum naming him after the Dog Star."

"Well, he does keep sniffing around that one bitch," Tonks said, gesturing towards the glass door. Remus looked to see Sirius dancing much too close to a Muggle cousin of Lily's who had turned her nose up at him when they were first introduced but who now seemed content to let him all but hump her leg.

"Right," he said, pulling on the cigarette until it burned his lungs.

There was a moment of silence.

"You fancy him, don't you?"

"What?" Remus asked, trying to work a tone of innocent surprise into his voice. "Who?"

"My cousin. Sirius. You fancy him." Tonks looked at him squarely.

"Pfftt," he said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture and taking another drag. He inhaled too quickly and was saved from further reply by a series of wrenching coughs.

"It's all right," Tonks said, putting her hand on his back. "I won't tell anyone. I'm good at keeping secrets. Comes with being a Metamorphmagus. Master of disguise and all."

"I don't know what you mean," he said stiffly. "Sirius is one of my best mates."

"And you're in love him. It's okay," she said, holding up a hand to stop him from speaking. "I know what it's like to care for someone who . . . doesn't see you for what you are." She looked down for a moment, then continued, speaking softly. "Sirius is brilliant. I love him more than anyone else besides my mum and dad. But he's not one to be pinned down, you know. I mean, could you imagine him getting married, having sprogs?"

Remus shut his eyes, remembering all too well a conversation he and Sirius had the night James and Lily got engaged.

_"What is it, Padfoot?" Remus asked, propping himself up on his elbow and leaning closer to Sirius, not ready to let go. The sex that night had been staggering. Sirius had clung to him as never before and didn't let his gaze drift away even once. But after they both came, Remus confessing things he'd felt for ages but never before been able to say, Sirius pulled away and sprawled on his back, staring at the twisted knots on the ceiling of the Shack as though he could read them like stars._

_"I don't know," he said nervously. "James and Lily—it's for real, isn't it?"_

_"Of course it is. Don't worry," Remus said, affectionately mussing Sirius's hair. "I'm sure he'll still have time for you on occasion, when he isn't busy trying to make little Prongses and Lilys."_

_Remus tried not to wince as Sirius moved his hand away and sat up, leaning over to pull a pack of fags out of that ridiculous leather jacket. "That's just it, isn't it?" he said, lighting one and offering it to Remus. Remus shook his head and Sirius took a long drag. "That sort of thing isn't meant for us."_

_"Depends what you mean," Remus said, a feeling of dread twisting his stomach. When Sirius didn't respond, he took a deep breath. "I know we're not like James and Lily. Of course I know that. We're both blokes, for one thing."_

_"And I'm a Black and you're a—" Sirius flushed and looked away. "Well, like you said, we're both blokes."_

_But Remus knew the words that had been left unsaid. "You can say it. I'm a werewolf. Hardly father material."_

_"That's not what I meant. Anyway, I don't think I could ever settle down like that. Too much mischief to make." He laughed but stopped when he caught Remus's eye. "I'm sorry, Moony. I didn't mean to—"_

_Remus shrugged. "It doesn't matter. It's not like this is something we planned on continuing past Hogwarts anyway."_

_"It was a laugh, though, wasn't it?" Sirius said. "I'll miss it."_

_"So will I, Padfoot," Remus answered, standing up and beginning to dress, careful not to aggravate his fresh wounds._

That was the last time they'd ever been alone together. And now, here Remus stood next to Sirius's mischievous young cousin, who was looking at him in a way he didn't quite understand, taking his cigarette-free hand and entwining her fingers through his.

"Sirius is three years older than I am," she said steadily. "But he's not ready to grow up. Maybe he never will be. He'll probably never be able to let himself love anyone. Merlin knows that twisted aunt of mine probably beat it out of him. But I—" She paused, biting her lip.

"It's getting a bit chilly," Remus said quickly. "I think I'll go back inside." He tossed his cigarette, pulling his other hand from Tonks's as gently as he could. "Thanks. For . . . everything."

Tonks gave him a sad smile. "Always so polite." She closed her eyes, the color seeping from her hair, turning her into a mousy, despairing version of herself that Remus had never before seen. It was like looking into a mirror, and he hated it.

***

They kept in touch occasionally after that, or rather, Tonks kept in touch with Remus. She was in love with him, he realized after about the third owl, recognising the same unwritten promises and questions in her silent sprawl of words as in the letters he penned to Sirius. The war had sent them on separate, secret missions, far from each other and from James and Lily, though truth be told, the distance between them had widened long before that.

Lily told Remus over dinner one night, almost apologetically, that she and James had asked Sirius to be Harry's godfather.

"That's good," he said, smiling tightly, unsure what hurt him more—that he had never even been considered, or that Sirius could somehow find it in himself to act a man for James but not for him.

And then James and Lily were killed, and Sirius was sent to Azkaban, and nothing much mattered anymore.

***

Remus imagined seeing Sirius again many, many times after all these years, and in none of those scenarios had Sirius been changing a nappy and cooing.

"That's a good girl," Sirius murmured, bending down over a small blanket on the grass, his back turned, voice floating towards Remus like a Patronus. It was low and gravelly, worlds away from the young, arrogant voice Remus remembered, but the gentle tone was one he recognized from the countless times Sirius had put him back together after the moon took him apart. "There now. Almost done."

Remus stopped so abruptly that Theodora, who had been impatiently pulling him along towards the carousel, tilted her head up at her father quizzically, and he felt his heart surge with a love that still surprised him in its intensity, though he'd had nine years now to discover it. She looked so much like her mother in that moment, though she had Remus's coloring and some of his features—whenever she wasn't turning her hair blue or forcing Remus to Obliviate Muggles whose eyes grew shocked and scared when she suddenly decided to try out a new nose. Thankfully, she had been on her best behavior today, watching her feet in fascination as the shiny black boots Remus had saved for months to buy her caught the reflection of fairies buzzing around the bushes.

"Why'd we stop?" she asked, frowning. "You promised I could ride the black horse this time, and if no one was watching you'd turn him into a Thestral!"

"Dora—"

Time seemed to slow as Sirius turned, taking in the sight of Remus standing there, Dora still tugging at his hand. Remus had yet to speak when Sirius vanished the dirty nappy and blanket, gathering the child in his arms as he stood to walk towards them.

"Moony," Sirius said quietly, shifting the little girl (she was dressed in pink from head to toe) to one side as she placed a thumb contentedly in her mouth and laid her head on Sirius's shoulder. "Teaching your daughter the art of rule-breaking already? Of course, with a Marauder for a father and my cousin for a mother, I wouldn't expect anything less."

"Sirius," Remus answered, for he couldn't quite bring himself to use the old nickname. "Thought I'd see you at the funeral," he added, only a little sorry for letting a hint of accusation creep into his voice.

Sirius nodded, gazing off into the distance. "Suppose I deserved that."

"Why weren't you there?" Remus asked, looking down at Dora as her hand suddenly went limp in his. He realized his own hand was sweaty and shaking, so he moved it to her shoulder, attempting to steady them both.

Sirius drew a deep breath. "I suppose I just couldn't face everyone, knowing her blood was on my hands."

"Sirius," Remus warned, glancing down at Dora. But something in a nearby tree had distracted her from their conversation, and Remus squinted to see two bowtruckles gouging at each other's tiny eyes. Satisfied his daughter's attention was otherwise occupied, Remus continued. "You were in . . . Azkaban," he whispered. "And Dora chose to be an Auror, just as she chose to go after Peter." The same words were spoken to Remus countless times after his wife's death, and they always rang hollow to his ears. He had no doubt they sounded equally empty to Sirius.

"Why did she, anyway? Everyone thought I was the one who betrayed James and Lily."

Sirius said it nonchalantly, as he always said things when he was most hurt, and Remus let the invisible wall he had set between them fall away.

"She never believed it of you," he said gently. "Nor did I."

Sirius looked chastened. "I know. I wasn't sure, at first, but . . . I know now." He sighed. "I suppose it all goes back to Peter, doesn't it?"

"I suppose it does."

"Wanker. Well, at least we don't have to worry about him any more. Just wish I could have been the one to do it."

"You'd have had to fight me for the chance," Remus said, giving Sirius a sad smile. He had spent the first three years of Sirius's imprisonment looking tirelessly for Peter, but then Dora had gotten pregnant, and thoughts of revenge and justice had been abandoned to his need to keep his family close to him at all costs, though he should have known that protecting a woman descended from the Blacks, with a stubbornness and penchant for danger equal to Sirius's, was a futile task. "Too late now though."

"Bella's still out there," Sirius said. His grey eyes burned with the same intensity Remus remembered from school, from times when he was about to talk them all into doing something stupid or dangerous or impossible, or more likely all three. "We could—"

Remus felt his hatred for his wife's murderer bubble over once again, like a cauldron of poisonous potion left unattended but not forgotten. But then he looked down at his child.

"I can't," Remus said, feeling something in him still.

"Nor can I," sighed Sirius, kissing the forehead of the child he held close. "Just can't help thinking of it sometimes. But . . . that's enough of that. I think there's an introduction yet to be made." He knelt down on the grass so he could be at eye level with Dora.

Dora, who had never in her nine years displayed an ounce of shyness, retreated behind her father, peeking around his legs to stare bashfully at Sirius.

"Good to know I still have an effect on the ladies," Sirius laughed.

"Apparently," Remus said, gesturing towards the baby.

"Oh. Yes." Sirius flushed. "Well, after I was released from . . . after I was released, I thought I'd try settling down. Seemed to work out for you and Tonks."

Remus felt his gut twist as the pain of that last conversation with Sirius came back to him. _I don't think I could ever settle down like that. Too much mischief to make._

"I was surprised when you married her," Sirius continued.

Remus thought he heard something like hurt in Sirius's voice, which made no sense at all. He nodded, unable to put into words that it was more far more complicated than it looked from the outside. That he had reached out to Dora when they were both shattered with grief over losing Sirius. That when she said she knew he still loved (would always love) her cousin but now all they had was each other, he had found some space in his heart to love her too.

Sirius pinched Dora's nose playfully, laughing as she turned it into a pig's snout and oinked at him. "Anyway," he said, looking up at Remus again, "turns out birds aren't for me, after all."

Remus suddenly felt seasick, his heart thudding madly against his rib cage. "Oh?"

Sirius stood up, his face so close that Remus could see every eyelash, could feel Sirius's warm breath on his cheek. Sirius leaned in . . .

And then the baby began to wail, and Sirius tore himself away.

"Fancy a walk?" he asked, shushing the child and bouncing her in his arms. "Helps calm her down."

"All right." Remus took Dora's hand. He was surprised when she reached up for Sirius with the other and began leading them forward. After just a few steps, the baby settled again. They walked together in silence, Remus waiting for Sirius to speak first.

"I named her Jasmine," he finally said. "Something about it reminded me of James. And Lily."

"That's beautiful. _She's_ beautiful," Remus said, a lump forming in his throat as it often did when he thought of James and Lily. "Where's her mother?"

"Merlin knows," Sirius said, shaking his head. "I hear from her occasionally, she sends gifts every now and then. We ended things all right, but she wasn't really ready to be a mother. Still, I'm not sorry." He looked lovingly at the child in his arms, then down at Dora. "I know you understand."

"I do," Remus said, somehow loving Sirius more in that moment than ever before. "Is that why you . . . didn't work out?"

"That's part of it," Sirius said, still smiling at Dora, who was crossing one foot over the other in concentration as she took slow, deliberate steps.

"And the other part?"

"I suppose she could tell I was in love with someone else."

That wonderful, sick feeling in Remus's stomach returned. He turned his face towards Sirius, holding his breath.

Sirius's eyes met his, strong and steady. He cleared his throat nervously. "Look, Moony, I'm just going to say it. I know it's been years, and I know I never gave you any reason to—wait for me, or whatever it is you'd call it. Merlin, I don't know how to do this—I don't even know if you still—"

"Yes," Remus said thickly, and felt his eyes cloud over. "I do."

"Daddy, what's wrong?" Dora asked in alarm, pulling her hand from Sirius's so quickly that the movement woke Jasmine from her sleep. She started to whimper again as Dora tugged hard at her own father's sleeve. "Why are you crying?"

"It's okay, love," Remus said, pulling her close. "Sky's just a bit bright today." He wanted to wipe at his eyes, but Dora was clinging to him so tightly he couldn't bring himself to let go.

"Here. Let me," Sirius said, closing the distance between them. He brushed a thumb tenderly across each of Remus's cheeks before pressing their lips together in a kiss that was chaste but full of promise. One hand came to rest gently atop Remus's on Dora's back, while the other stroked his own child's soft hair. "Shh. Shh," he whispered. "It's all right."


End file.
